


Celebrated

by Lady_Clara



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: A Few Mentions of War, Birthday Party, Birthday Presents, Flowers, Food, Friendship, Gardens & Gardening, Gen, M/M, Picnics, Plans For The Future, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Roses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:22:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26176387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Clara/pseuds/Lady_Clara
Summary: Dedue gets a proper birthday celebration a year after the war ends, including one very unexpected gift and a promise for the future.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 12
Kudos: 28





	Celebrated

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Dedue! 
> 
> I know I'm posting this a few days before his actual birthday on the 31st, but he deserves to be celebrated all weekend, doesn’t he? :)

On the thirty-first day of the Verdant Rain Moon, Dedue waits in the courtyard Dimitri excitedly led him to before he disappeared into the adjacent kitchens. It is his birthday, and his friends have planned a picnic in his honor, though what exactly that entails has been kept a surprise.

While he is waiting, he takes in the scenery – leaves blowing in the wind, summer sun on his skin, the laughter of children playing nearby. Signs of the new era of peace. He was once unsure he would live long enough to see a day like this.

Last year, he had forgotten his birthday entirely. The final days of the war bled right into it. Though despite immediately having to shoulder the responsibility of ruling multiple devastated nations while recovering from multiple injuries, the newly instated king had remembered. He had reached out to squeeze Dedue’s hand from the neighboring cot in the infirmary and had wished him a happy birthday. “Next year, you will have a proper celebration,” he had promised.

In all the years Dedue has known him, Dimitri has never, ever broken a promise. Today is no exception.

“Happy birthday!!!”

He is brought out of his thoughts by his friends parading out of the castle and into the courtyard with a seemingly endless cavalcade of plates full of food.

“Eat to your heart’s content, Dedue,” Ashe says as he places a tray of delicious looking rosemary and olive bread down on the picnic table. “Your special day must be savored!”

Flayn plunks a dish down next to his and hovers over it, hands clasped to her heart. “The archbishop caught these fish fresh this morning. Are they not the finest you have ever seen? Look at how they glisten in the sun…”

The archbishop may be standing towards the back, but Dedue can see the subtle pride in their stance.

“Stand back, Flayn,” Felix orders. “We still have to go over what’s being served.”

Flayn pouts but moves away from the table as everyone else presents their dishes to Dedue and explains the menu: sweet and salty whitefish sauté with spices (one of his favorites from their academy days), a platter of fruit grown in the Leicester territories, bright salads, breads that have put Ashe’s restaurant on the map as one of Fódlan’s most beloved eating establishments, and a few of Dedue’s own recipes like seasoned meat and vegetable skewers.

Sylvain pats his stomach. “All of the food smelled so tempting while we were cooking it, but we did our best to resist eating it on the spot. Although a few meat chunks suspiciously went missing. _Ingrid_.”

Ingrid fixes him with a glare and jabs him with her elbow before turning to Dedue with a smile. “What Sylvain means is that your recipes are irresistible. We hope our recreations can live up to your originals.”

Dimitri holds out an empty plate and utensils. “We hope it is a feast worthy of the one we are celebrating.”

The feast is indeed delicious, and even better is the company. It’s a comfort to watch everyone enjoy a leisurely day after all of the suffering they have been through. A year’s passing has not miraculously cured everything, and the shadow of the war still lingers in the way Annette nervously twirls her hair, the shakiness in Dimitri’s hands that has not showed any sign of going away, Ingrid constantly looking over her shoulder mid-conversation, Felix staring glassy-eyed into the distance from time to time. There are good days and bad ones in their post-war lives, yet they all came together to give Dedue a special day.

By the last bite, his stomach feels heavy with food and emotions. “It is an honor to be celebrated like this,” he tells the group, because truly it is. “Thank you.”

“It’s not over yet!” Annette exclaims, jumping to her feet. “Wait right there!”

At the blink of an eye, she runs into the kitchens with Mercedes and Flayn in tow. Dimitri holds the door open for them when they resurface with a serving tray containing the tallest cake Dedue has ever seen. It is a bit lopsided, but adorable nonetheless with pink and yellow swirled frosting.

“I remembered you’re a fan of strawberry cake,” Mercedes says. “The harvest wasn’t too good this year, unfortunately, but the flavor should still come through! There’s a layer of chocolate and a layer of vanilla, too.”

“We practiced making it throughout the week to ensure you would receive the highest quality version of it on your birthday,” Flayn states. “Thankfully, our baking endeavors went much better than expected today. It is thanks to you that our cooking skills have improved, Chef Deddles.”

The formerly off-putting nickname is now one Dedue finds wholeheartedly endearing.

“We didn’t even set the kitchen on fire _once_ this time around!” Annette adds with pride. “Though Dimitri was super nervous about getting everything right. He was focused so intently that he ended up breaking two whisks!”

What is most surprising to Dedue is not that the kitchen remained intact, but the fact that they all joined forces to practice baking a cake several times before preparing this one for him. He knows Annette gets frustrated by mishaps in cooking endeavors when her perfectionism takes control, and he knows the king does not have enough free time to spend on frivolities like birthday cakes. Yet Dedue’s treasured friends took the time to make this gargantuan cake for his birthday.

Dimitri looks away sheepishly. “I am getting more acquainted with the art of cooking, albeit slowly and with much trial and error. Emphasis on the error.”

Dedue gets the first taste. The cake is abundantly sweet, and the amount of chocolate may overpower the strawberries, but it was made by the hands of those he holds most dear. “It’s perfect,” he says, resulting in Flayn and Annette hugging and cheering while Mercedes smiles and Dimitri sighs in relief.

Dessert is not the final surprise. Mercedes gifts him a scarf she knit using beautiful Duscur textiles and patterns. Byleth hands him a pretty floral-designed teapot and two matching teacups with an attached note that reads, “For when you want to have tea with someone you cherish,” and Ashe and Ingrid give him _Romance of the Knight,_ a handsomely bound book that is fairly new and exceedingly popular. According to prevailing rumors, the main characters – a heroic knight and the king who holds great affection for him – took inspiration from the bond he and Dimitri share, which is slightly disconcerting. Nevertheless, he appreciates the gift.

Dimitri then approaches with his hands behind his back and a slightly shy smile on his face. “Happy birthday, Dedue. I am glad we could celebrate it properly this year.” He brings forward a bouquet of roses in lovely shades of red and pink and offers it to Dedue.

Dedue accepts it with pleasure, though roses this color are certainly an unexpected choice of flower for a bouquet gifted to a friend. “They are exquisite.” He looks at Dimitri and smiles. “With this birthday celebration, you have made good on yet another promise.”

“It was a promise I was delighted to carry out,” Dimitri says. “I would like to show you where those roses came from, if you have time. Would you mind following me?”

Dedue nods. “Yes, but first allow me to help with the cleanup of this feast.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Annette spins him around and pushes him forward - quite a feat considering how much shorter and lighter she is. “Go! It’s your birthday. We’ll handle this part.”

“I’ll take care of your gifts,” Mercedes assures.

He feels beyond fortunate to have such kindhearted friends still in his life after the war.

“I would like to say another thank you.” He wants to punctuate how special they have made his day. “For everything. I am grateful for all of this and for all of you.”

“You deserve it,” Ashe responds.

“Now run along, you two!” Sylvain calls out.

He follows Dimitri away from the picnic tables but is still within earshot of Flayn when she comments, “I wish I could see his reaction!”

* * *

Dimitri leads him to a clearing in one of the forests near the castle where tall pine trees surround a walled-off area. Dedue doesn’t remember ever coming here before. The entrance to whatever is behind the stone fence is an archway covered in roses, albeit in different shades than the ones in the bouquet Dedue decided to hold on to. It’s a beautiful entryway, and now he is even more curious as to what is on the other side.

When his eyes drift to an engraved plaque on the fence beside the arching entrance, his curiosity grows exponentially. _Dedue Molinaro’s Garden_ , it reads.

Body tensing up in surprise, he looks to Dimitri for answers and is met with the sight of him chewing his lip and fussing with his hands.

“I dislike keeping secrets, but I thought it would make for a nice surprise,” Dimitri begins. “You relayed to me that strolling gardens have excellent benefits for one’s mental wellbeing, and it occurred to me that Fhirdiad lacked gardens designed for that purpose.” He lifts his hand like he is about to touch one of the roses on the archway but second guesses the action and drops it back to his side. “Many of the Kingdom’s citizens continue to suffer internally from the atrocities of war even after it has ended. I established this garden in hopes that it can grant some mental clarity to those who visit it.” He shakes his hands out twice, then gently traces his fingers over the letters on the plaque. “It is named for you so this generation and future ones know how integral you were to the new era of peace.” He looks up at Dedue with so much reverence it makes Dedue’s heart thump against his ribcage. “You deserve to be celebrated properly. Not just on your birthday, but every day, and in centuries beyond ours.”

Dedue clutches the bouquet in his hands a little tighter.

“I know a garden is not the most traditional birthday gift, but…I hope it is all right,” Dimitri adds with a tinge of trepidation in his voice.

They have spent years learning about one another and growing closer as a result, but Dimitri still second guesses himself if he thinks there is so much as a shred of possibility that his actions could upset Dedue in any way. He is still so careful and thoughtful despite all they have been through together. Dedue counts himself lucky to have a friend like that.

An upside of growing closer is that the two have forged a deep understanding that does not always require words. For a gift like this, words fall short. So, Dedue puts a gentle hand on Dimitri’s shoulder and fixes him with a tender smile he hopes will convey exactly how he feels.

It appears to work. Dimitri’s shoulders loosen, his eye lights up with joy, and his worries seem to melt away. “May I show you around?” he asks, bending his elbow and offering it to Dedue.

Dedue accepts and loops his arm through Dimitri’s, letting his hand rest just above the crook of his elbow over the simple shirt he’s wearing. Dimitri opens the gate and ushers him into the garden.

Dedue enters and immediately halts his next step.

In front of him is a spectacular strolling garden with gravel paths woven around plots of countless types of plants. Grapevine snakes up trellises to the east, cedar hedges frame rosebushes to the west and south, winterberry trees and juniper bushes already have birds picking at their fruit to the north. In the middle, a pop of color: asters begin to show their purple buds and puffy meadowsweet flowers cluster together like white clouds above their reddish stems.

It is clear from first glance that an abundance of thought went into the plants chosen for this garden and their arrangement within it. All are varieties that grow decently in cold climates or are frost-tolerant and therefore can withstand harsh winters like Fhirdiad’s. Has this garden always been hidden away here? If not, Dedue wonders how on earth it was all put together.

“I am no landscape architect,” Dimitri says beside him. “It’s a work in progress, but since most of it has been completed in time for your birthday, I do not wish to keep it from you any longer.” A little bashfully, “Happy birthday, Dedue.”

Dedue lightly squeezes Dimitri’s arm. “This is remarkable.”

Dimitri responds with a relieved smile. “I am glad you think so. Annette and Mercedes found a spell to make the soil more suitable since Faerghus is not known for its arable land. There should be at least one flowering plant in bloom every season. Many of them are…what was the name again…perennials. I imagine the camellias will look quite pretty in the wintertime when the red flowers contrast with the white snow.” The enthusiasm with which he points to all of the different parts of the garden is heartwarming. “When tutors wish to take their classes outside on a sunny day, they can bring their students to these tables and chairs. It would be a good environment for learning. People can set up easels to paint, too. I was thinking you might like to work on your crafting projects out here as well. It is also an apt place for sitting quietly in contemplation.”

“I agree.” They’re all wonderful ideas, and Dedue can easily picture himself crocheting under the shade of the apple tree starting to bear fruit to the east. But the more he takes stock of the well-placed and healthy looking plants around them, the more he wonders how it came to be. “I must ask. An endeavor like this takes more than a year to implement.”

Dimitri seems to mull over the implicit question before responding to it. “I have been researching gardening for some time, though I certainly do not take all the credit. This garden is the result of hard work from many. It is a mix of old and new. Some of these are mature plants that were transported here and reestablished within the past year, and some have been planted throughout the course of the year. People were more than eager to contribute to this space when I told them it would be planted in your honor.” He pats the hand Dedue has resting on his arm. “You are well loved throughout Fódlan and beyond.”

“I am moved to hear that,” Dedue says – and his heart leaps to prove it – but now another curiosity has popped into his head. “I did not know you had taken an interest in researching gardens.”

Dimitri’s expression changes into something graver. He looks down and away with a frown, but before Dedue can worry he has said something offensive, his friend offers a more thorough explanation.

“On some of my darkest days, I envisioned establishing a garden like this as a way to honor your memory when I thought you had…” He trails off, but Dedue can fill in the gaps. “It was one of the only things that kept me going during that time. I thought that through the study of gardens, I could still feel close to you.” He grazes the sole of his boot back and forth over the gravel. “I don’t remember those years all too well, but the gardening advice stayed with me.”

This is the first time Dedue is hearing of any of this. Emotions tug at his heart.

“I remember how lively you would become when talking about the art of gardens and gardening," Dimitri goes on. "It always seemed to bring you joy, even in difficult times.” He takes a deep breath, lets it out, and looks up at Dedue again. “I am sorry for rambling. The point is, I am glad I can present this garden to you while you are beside me, alive and well. I hope it can bring you joy.”

Dedue is enormously glad as well. “It has brought me joy already,” he says.

The way Dimitri smiles at him is just as sweet as the other birthday gifts he’s received today.

“Would you like to take a walk around?” Dimitri asks, evidently putting bad memories behind him for now.

Dedue nods. “I would like that very much.”

With his hand still on Dimitri’s arm, they walk forward together. So many details hidden among the plants come into view on the tour, like birdbaths, tables and chairs inlaid with fetching mosaics, and little stick sculptures Dimitri says the local schoolchildren designed.

“Not everything was immune to my poor gardening skills, and some of the plants I thought would have sprouted by now have not,” Dimitri admits when they stop at one leafless shrub. “I think deer may have eaten some as well. Oh!” He snaps his head up as if a thought has just occurred to him. “It is important to mention that even though the garden is named after you, you need not fret over it. I know it will require much attention and upkeep, but I promise you I will tend to it regularly and make sure it does not go to ruin.”

Another promise. The king has the busiest schedule of anyone in Fódlan, and a garden should hardly be of any concern. But when Dimitri makes a promise, no matter how small, it is guaranteed to be kept. It is clear he is making this one because it is something important for Dedue. 

He continues. “I have it written in my will that it is to be cared for after my death, as well as a clause that states the name is not to be changed.”

Dedue’s chest constricts. His heart drops into his stomach. Dimitri put in so much effort and coordination establishing this garden for him, but to know that he even had a plan for what was to become of it after…

He tries not to think about his most cherished friend’s mortality and instead focuses on how grateful he is to be close with someone who would go to such great lengths to see him happy and appreciated.

“Caring for it is something we can do together,” Dedue tells him.

Dimitri’s lips turn up into a gentle smile. “Yes, if you would like to, that would be wonderful.”

A memory Dedue hasn't thought of in years comes back to him, and he can't help but grin. “After all, we made good weeding partners during our time at the academy.”

Dimitri leans into his side, smiling even wider now. “I promise you I will not eat any weeds I may come across in this garden, lest I receive one of your lectures.”

When they arrive at the rosebushes, Dedue extends his bouquet and lines it up with the roses that match. Summer roses have always been some of his favorite varieties. He realizes that many of the plants in this garden are actually ones he has told Dimitri he is fond of throughout the years they have known each other. Dimitri has always been committed to learning about him, but it makes his heart swell to recognize just how committed Dimitri has been to archiving that information as well.

There is something notably soothing about the sound of gravel crunching beneath their boots as they walk together while Dimitri points out different plots. After years of trying to protect Dimitri’s reputation as prince by emphasizing their difference in titles (despite Dimitri’s frequent objections against doing so), Dedue has reached a point where he can walk arm-in-arm with the king and call him a dear friend. He has always wanted that, and now it is his wondrous reality. They can walk together in peace, both still alive and by each other’s side.

Their strolling eventually leads them to a long, flat aisle of grass flanked by pines. At the end is some sort of structure, though it’s too far away for Dedue to identify it.

“There is something I would like to show you here,” Dimitri tells him.

Dedue nods and lets Dimitri lead them down the aisle with birds fluttering in and out of the trees around them, filling the freshness of the pine-scented air with their comforting calls. He catches himself thinking how nice it would be to walk through this garden arm-in-arm with Dimitri every day. To watch Dimitri find peace of mind beside him in this place with his namesake.

A king does not have that kind of spare time, however, so Dedue resolves to at least savor the hours they have been granted together today.

As they come closer to the path’s end, he can make out what the nearing structure is: a regal looking wooden pavilion with beautifully crafted lattice panels.

Even more breathtaking is the view. The pine trees taper off and give way to an open vista where the pavilion overlooks the vast sea beyond them. The lulling sound of the steel grey waves reaches his ears, and he closes his eyes while the cooling breezes they send over wrap around him.

“This part of the garden faces west,” Dimitri says.

Dedue opens his eyes and processes the significance of that statement. To the west is…

“Duscur.” He looks out towards the vista in awe. This is the very sea that connects Faerghus with his homeland right there on the other side of the horizon.

And then he spots them – plots on both sides of the pavilion containing familiar arid plants. These were the types of plants he used to admire all around Duscur when he was a child. His heart yearned to see them again, and he finally did years later when Duscur started propagating whatever endemic plants had survived as part of the ongoing revitalization efforts.

His hand falls away from Dimitri’s arm and his feet lead him to one of the plots. He crouches down and marvels at an inflorescence of red flowers sprouting out of it. According to old paintings and gardening books, it was common for Faerghus and Duscur to exchange plants and display them in their public gardens. After the Tragedy, however, any plants emblematic of Duscur were ripped out of the ground. Now they’ve returned, symbols of his homeland growing strong again. He can visit them every day if he wants to.

“I did not wish to take any resources away from Duscur while they grow back their own gardens,” Dimitri says, “but when I mentioned the project to the Duscur officials we’ve been working with, they sent me a wonderful assortment of seeds to create a plot representative of the nation’s landscapes. They told me it will take some time before they grow to their full height, but it will be nice to watch their progress.”

Dedue stands up slowly, ignoring how his suddenly shaky legs make the simple motion a challenge. His composure and prudence have always been points of pride, but he does not bother overthinking his next action. He walks confidently towards the man who did all of this for him, cups his cheek in his hand, and gently presses their foreheads together.

The crinkling sound the bouquet of roses makes between them does not entirely drown out the quiet but sharp inhale he can hear Dimitri take.

“Thank you,” Dedue whispers, voice mixing with the sound of the waves calmly lapping beyond them. There is no phrase suitable enough for the gratitude in his heart, but he hopes the weight of those two words will carry how much this means to him, hopes the many thoughts of appreciation in his head will transfer to Dimitri’s from this point of connection.

He lingers for a moment with the sounds of Dimitri’s breathing heavy in the air – a reassuring sign of life – before moving away and withdrawing his hand.

Dimitri stays frozen in place, eye closed and lips slightly parted, perhaps in surprise. A few breaths later, his eye flutters open and he purses his lips. “I…you are quite welcome.” He spins around rather abruptly and points to the structure in front of them. “Shall I…shall I show you the pavilion?”

Dedue nods and follows Dimitri up the small steps and into the open-air pavilion. It’s well-constructed and a beautiful spot to admire the vista formed by the sea to the west and the view formed by the pine-laden path to the east.

“I see this as a place for respite, or perhaps a place for visitors to shelter from light snow,” Dimitri says as he walks the perimeter of the short lattice walls. “It would be a nice space for special gatherings as well, like a birthday celebration or…a wedding.”

Dedue would agree. It would be easy to dress the already charming pavilion up for a wedding – flower arrangements covering the columns framing the entrance, rows of chairs along the path leading up to it, petals strewn down the grassy aisle…

Remembering that he is already holding a bouquet of roses, Dedue cannot help but imagine having his own wedding here surrounded by plants of Duscur with the sea that connects Duscur and Faerghus in the background. The chairs would be filled with his friends, their once-professor-now-archbishop would officiate, and he would be marrying the one he cherishes with all his heart. There is only one person he could ever picture beside him reciting his vows – the man who happens to be sharing the pavilion with him right now, in fact.

He looks back at Dimitri and sees him touching his hands to his cheek and forehead where Dedue’s own had just been, as if he’s in a daze. The moment Dimitri notices Dedue’s eyes on him, though, he very quickly drops his hands back to his sides.

“With that, I believe I have shown you all of the garden,” he says. 

It is a lot to process. The thoughtfulness that went into planning it, the name, the clause that has been written into Dimitri’s will, this lovely pavilion, a plot representative of Duscur…

“I did not expect a birthday present like this.”

Dimitri squares his shoulders and rubs at his elbow. “I hope it is sufficient. My goal is to make each of your birthdays more special than the last.”

Of course he would say something like that, as if Dedue’s heart will be able to recover from all the love that has been laid down before him by this time next year. He is quite certain the warmth that today’s events have spread into his heart will sustain him for as long as he lives.

“Given this year’s birthday, I do not see how that is possible.”

Dimitri smiles. “Well, I am a man of my word, so I will find a way.”

Dedue knows Dimitri well enough to know this is something he will stress about all year. “Do not put more pressure on yourself. Running a kingdom is far more important than planning a birthday celebration.”

Dimitri gives him that admonishing look he reserves for whenever he thinks Dedue is being too humble. “You are no less important than my duties as king. Please remember that. You deserve to be celebrated. You deserve everything good in this world, Dedue.”

If Dimitri is speaking from his heart, then Dedue will speak from his as well. “I appreciate that, but you already gave me the greatest gift of all last year,” he states. “You survived. Your life is the only gift I ever wished for.”

It shouldn’t be that surprising of a statement, but Dimitri’s mouth falls open nevertheless. It’s the same expression he wore when Dedue first called him by his name after years of solely using proper titles.

“Oh, Dedue.” Dimitri takes Dedue’s free hand and clasps it in both of his. It’s a firm but tender hold, and it takes willpower for Dedue to resist curling his fingers around it. “You may have pledged your life to me long ago, but know that my life is yours as well. You will always have it.”

That sounds a lot like the kinds of wedding vows Dedue was imagining a few moments ago.

“Know that for as long as I am alive,” Dimitri continues, “I will do whatever I can to ensure that your life is filled with peace and happiness moving forward.”

Those sound like vows, too, so Dedue feels bold enough to respond, “So long as I am with you, it will be.”

Dimitri purses his lips again, and Dedue cannot pretend he doesn’t see a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“I truly meant it when I said you are irreplaceable,” Dimitri adds quietly. “Cherished.”

The confirmation is superfluous. “I did not doubt the sincerity of your words then,” Dedue says, and then gestures to the garden. “And I certainly do not doubt it now.”

The laugh that comes out of Dimitri is precious. The happy creases it forms next to his eye are precious, too.

“I am glad,” he says. “If you are amenable to the idea, I would like to hold an unveiling ceremony for the garden so the public knows it is available to the them, and so they can celebrate the man it is named after.”

Dedue nods. “I am amenable to it.”

“Good.” Dimitri gives Dedue’s hand a gentle pat before releasing it. “I suppose we should head back to the castle. Our friends have been a great help in this garden endeavor, and I know they are more than eager to hear what you think of it.”

He takes a step down the stairs of the pavilion, pauses, and turns around to face Dedue again while placing a hand on one of the columns as if to steady himself. “In the future, there is another promise I wish to make to you. However…I cannot make it until I ensure that Fódlan and the nations surrounding it have recovered from the unrest they have faced from the war and otherwise.” He completes the step but stays halfway down the stairs looking up at Dedue.

As a skylark sings a sweet melody in the tree branch above him, the sea breeze blows Dimitri’s hair back and makes his expression of anticipation all the more apparent.

And that’s when Dedue realizes the promise he has kept buried and guarded in his heart, the one he so deeply wishes to voice one day, is one Dimitri shares.

Dedue used to hesitate when taking any sort of big steps pertaining to the bond he shares with Dimitri, but this time, he moves to the same stair so they can face each other on the same level. He tucks a lock of Dimitri’s hair behind his ear and takes a hard look at the man who promised to give him a proper birthday celebration and ended up giving him so much more. A flush the same color as the roses in Dedue’s bouquet blooms across Dimitri’s face. It’s a healthy glow, a welcome sight. He wants to memorize this moment.

Here, in this garden planted in his honor, Dedue bends down and places a soft and gentle kiss on Dimitri’s rosy cheek, just under his eyepatch.

“I will wait for that promise, Dimitri.”

Perhaps one day they can join hands in this pavilion and exchange those same, long-awaited promises as they slip matching rings onto their fingers. In the meantime, Dedue has a wonderful birthday to reminisce about and a spectacular garden to enjoy.


End file.
